If You Don't Belong Here
by Foibles and Fables
Summary: George didn't approve of Sadie's presence. And he was appalled that he was so attracted to her. A slightly AU approach of the events of 5.15, Before and After. George/Sadie. T-rating is very very strong.


**Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. This writing is for entertainment purposes only and is not for profit.**

**Note: Maybe I made up the chemistry, but, what I saw, I liked.**

The rumors were everywhere. They basically seeped from the walls. The supposed escapades of Crazy Sadie, as she had become known after the Intern Fight Club debacle ("That's the chick who made her own incision!") were no secrets in the hallways of Seattle Grace Hospital.

There were the semi-normal ones: she was a lesbian, she was bisexual, she was bisexual after enough alcoholic influence. "I swear I saw her having eyesex with Callie Torres. And didn't she break Mark Sloan's penis?"

There were the slightly less normal: how she and Meredith Grey had allegedly screwed half of Europe during a post-college trip. "I heard that they didn't even have any money with them. They just slept with guys in exchange for food and a place to stay."

Then, there were the downright insane. A few of these less credible rumors was that she had gotten pregnant in Germany, or that she had robbed someone in Austria. "Someone told me that her real name is Sydney. She changed it to Sadie and is avoiding Austrian authorities. How crazy is that?"

Sadie Harris, after less than two months at Seattle Grace, had become a celebrity. She might not have even known it. If she was aware of the whispers going around, she did nothing to stop them.

But George O'Malley was no gossip. He had learned firsthand how much it hurt, both emotionally (broken heart) and literally (dislocated shoulder). After failing his intern exam, he tried to focus more on the medicine, even if that meant alienating himself from his friends. The knowledge and experience he would gain in the end would be worth it, he hoped.

So George noticed different things about Sadie; the less frivolous information. She was clueless. She had no idea how to practice medicine. One rumor that he had actually paid attention to was the one that said she only managed to sneak into the program by riding on her father's coattails. He was on the Board, after all. Still, it left one to wonder just how she faked her way through medical school.

The fact that Sadie was running around the hospital cutting both others and herself while having no knowledge of what the consequences to her actions might be scared the living hell out of him. That would be the last thing Seattle Grace, number twelve, would need. He had been close enough to the Chief for a long enough time to know how much damage any incident could cause. So, George had done his best so far to keep an eye on Sadie, to give her a short leash, just in case he would need to intervene for one reason or another.

Still, even though George tried not to _listen_ to the more inappropriate rumors (something about a "Twist and Shout" technique came to mind, they were impossible not to hear. He tried like hell not to let images and fantasies of her into his mind.

But, any hot-blooded straight male human would at some point, either consciously or subconsciously. He had dreamt of Sadie on more than one occasion; dreamt of taking her in an on-call room, in an exam room, in the stairwell, her legs tight around his waist and her calling out his name over and over with her foreign inflection. With time, the dreams came more frequently and became more vivid until he could taste her lips and feel her hips working against his.

The sex in the dreams was always amazing: hard and fast with an air of mystery and aggression. Their foreheads would be touching, her blue eyes intensely focused on his as he rocked within her. Her cheeks would flush deeply and she would throw her head back as she came, sending her goldenrod hair cascading around her face. She cried out his name at his own release, delicate fingers forming fists in his hair.

These dreams, they tortured him. They were especially agonizing because it had bee quite a while since George was _with_ anyone (another side-effect to his new focus). His last had been Izzie, and he didn't like to think about what a giant mess that made.

(There had been a two-week or so period where he wanted Lexie Grey like crazy…that subsided after they had lived together for a while and he realized that he didn't want to ruin their friendship like he had for so many others before)

As time went by, the dreams began interfering in his real life. He would stare at Sadie as she stood near him, his eyes wandering her figure under her scrubs against his will. He was always half-hard around her, when the memories of the dreams would force him to picture her naked and feel her hands and mouth all over him. When she would look at or speak to him, he had to look away out of sheer embarrassment.

George couldn't stand it sometimes. He couldn't fathom that he could be so physically attracted to and be lusting after someone for whom he felt so much disdain. The burning carnal desire within him always managed to come second to his need to better the hospital, however, his home and family.

Which is what led to a particular incident late one light, when George finally managed to get Sadie alone.

It was past midnight, in the tunnel. Sadie sat alone, legs dangling from the edge of the bed against the wall, staring blankly at her wrists. George scrapped his initial plan of getting a snack from the vending machine and decided that this would be a prime opportunity to speak with her in private. He had to let her know what a danger she could be.

"Sadie," he said softly as he approached her, swallowing against the tightening in her right thigh and fighting against the burning in the pit of his stomach.

She either didn't hear or ignored him (George suspected the latter), so she said nothing in return. The lack of response was almost chilling. George cleared his throat, both anxious and slightly angered.

"I need to talk to you." Still she didn't articulate an answer, but this time, she glanced up at him for a fleeting instant before lowering her eyes again.

"Say what you want," she replied a moment later with in an exasperated sigh. George was frozen for a moment before he made his legs move, carrying him to the gurney on which she was seated. "Well, come on," she cajoled sarcastically, patting the empty space next to her. He gingerly sat, keeping his feet flat on the floor, keeping a safe distance so that he wouldn't be distracted by her pleasant scent, a strangely comforting patchouli aroma.

"There's a lot expected of you," he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "And I want to be sure that you know what you're doing."

Blue eyes narrowed at him. "I'm sorry?"

No more dancing around the subject. "This – practicing medicine – is something that you can't fake. If you can't make simple diagnoses or perform routine procedures," he said gravely, turning to look at her completely, "then you could hurt someone. Badly. And that would hurt this hospital, also badly. So you need to tell me that you know what you're doing and then prove it."

"Shut up," Sadie muttered from the corner of her mouth. George gaped at her, taken aback.

"What did you say?" he sputtered. "You can't speak to me like that, I'm a-"

Sadie turned to face him full-on, looking him square in the eye, her lips so close to his that it caused his sentence to freeze. He leaned away from her, eyes widening. "I said," she repeated, lowering her voice to a tone that hinted at nothing but seduction, "shut up."

With not another word or warning, she pressed her full lips hard to his. George inhaled sharply as she kissed him, recoiling halfway but still unable to pull himself away. She held him there, by the shoulder and the cheek, as he finally gave in a tiny bit. He was both amazed and terrified that she tasted just as his mind told him she would.

Grinning mischievously against his lips, Sadie pushed him gently by the shoulders, prompting him to lie on his back. Petrified, lips burning, George complied. She straddled his hips and tossed her hair, hips grinding slightly against the crotch of his scrubs. George's body was immediate to react, but his mind was stuck in neutral.

"What are…" A loud groan as she did something particularly nice with her hips, and a deep blush. "What are you doing?" His dark blue eyes were incredulous as she giggled and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy black bra. The sight of her half-naked body alone was almost enough to pull another groan from him, and he hated himself for it.

"I know you've been watching me," she explained, reaching back to unhook her bra with one hand while the other stroked his cheek. "Because, unlike some people, I can tell when people have been staring at my ass. I know that this is something you want. I can always tell."

George shook his head to clear the fog of arousal, working around the throbbing bulge between his legs. "I can't…"

"Why not?" She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a reason.

George should have come up with a reason. He should have pushed her off right then and there, should have told her that she was wrong, to stop. But he couldn't stop it. In fact, this was what always got him into trouble, the not-stopping thing. First Meredith, and then Izzie. That should have been an indication of what was to come, but the situation was too far gone to fight against it anymore.

Against his conscience and judgment, he placed his hands on her bare skin, feeling something break within himself. She laughed, then, a sound of triumph. With that, she hunched over to kiss him again as his hands roamed her body, fingers running over the soft flesh, almost immediately finding the scars on her shoulder and from the appendectomy-gone-wrong. Before long, they were both naked on the gurney. His hands found her breasts and she arched into him with a slight moan.

From there, it sped up until it was out of control. The sex was incredible, a duplicate of the fantasies he had had. It was everything George needed. If it had mattered, Sadie would have been the first to finish, but George was only an instant behind. In that moment after orgasm, they stared at each other, chests heaving. For once, there wasn't a bit of distaste in his eyes.

But that reaction didn't last long. As soon as he caught his breath, George stood hastily, pulling his pants back on before leaning against the gurney. He gazed down at his shoes, mouth hanging slightly open, trying to process what just happened. He already felt the guilt, already felt that horrible hole in the middle of him, like after realizing he had slept with Izzie.

Sadie drew herself up to a sitting position, pulling the sheets over her naked body. Her face was still flushed and glowing under a thin sheen of sweat. She reached for him, delicate fingers tracing the red spider-webs between his shoulders where she had gouged him with her nails in the height of their passion. "Impressive, Doctor O'Malley," she commented in a sultry voice, eyes half-lidded. George shuddered. Her languid tone amplified her accent in a wonderful way, and he didn't want to think about it.

He jerked away from her touch, hurriedly putting his shirt and shoes back on. He had given into the distraction. "This shouldn't have happened," he said seriously, not turning back to look at her. "And it's not going to happen again."

His fists clenched in frustration with her and (especially) himself as he walked away without a backward glance. Sadie watched him the whole way, and she lay back on the gurney, face falling.

-----------------------------------

But it did happen again, the very next night. George had a bad day, secluded from his friends and put in charge of meaningless assignments again. It was beginning to get ridiculous, the lack of responsibility put upon him. He felt that he deserved much more. Izzie was still acting strange, too, another major stressor.

Something drew him to the tunnel, at the exact same time as he had gone down the night before. When he reached the depths of the hospital, Sadie was there again. She stood at his presence, and, seeing his mood, led him to the bed. This time, he didn't resist half as hard.

History repeated itself. The sex was exactly the same, and equally as great. They finished the same way, and George had the identical rush of conscience afterward. He leaned against the gurney again, folding his hands behind his back.

Then, a change. Sadie sighed loudly. "You could say something, honestly," she murmured, rolling her eyes. George ran his hands through his hair and shook his head slowly.

"Why?" George could only ask. "Why this?" Sadie took more than a moment to answer.

"If I could start over," she began on an odd note, "I would have never come here." Her voice was soft and regretful for once, causing George to turn and listen more completely. "I never would have entered this stupid program in the first place."

"Well, why did you?" he asked, surprised that he was actually curious.

Sadie sighed deeply, throwing herself back against the pillow. "I don't know. I guess…" A pause as she collected her thoughts. "I guess I just wanted another change, something else exciting. I wanted to see Meredith again. I wanted to go back to the way we were. So, I got my father to secure me a place as an intern." She laughed bitterly. "Death has changed, though. She'll never go back. She's grown up and left me behind."

George could sympathize. His friends had changed on him a lot.

"Now I'm stuck, and I don't belong here," she continued, staring up at the ceiling, using her hands animatedly. "You're right, Dr. O'Malley. I'm a mess and a danger. Meredith hasn't helped me, so I'm clueless. And I'm seriously considering quitting."

George watched as her face turned into an expression of a deep, somber sadness. For the first time, he felt her pain. "Again, it'll be me not following through with something constructive. Avoiding real life." She took a deep breath. "Which leads to the answer to your question, Doctor O'Malley. I felt like if I involved myself with somebody here, it would make me stay. Because that really is how anybody makes connections here, anyway. Sex. It couldn't be Karev or Sloan, since they're both asses. And then there's you." She gazed at him and gestured at him.

"Me?" George squinted at her in the low light.

"All I hear are good things about you. Really, everyone loves you around here," Sadie told him. "And, like I said, I could tell that you might have wanted me. I thought that if I started something with you, then maybe it would force me to stay and grow." She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her forehead, rubbing up and down her temples.

George looked away, slightly abashed, biting his lip. After a few seconds of excruciating silence, he responded.

"I can't be your reason to stay." He glanced upwards, picturing the figurative ceiling over his head. "I can't be your reason because I barely know you. And because I've thought about quitting before as well. But," he said, directing his gaze to Sadie again, "I can tell you this."

She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his.

"If you feel like you don't belong here," he began slowly, building up the words, "then this obviously isn't the place for you. Don't waste your life on this when there's something else out there that could make you happier, or give you more fulfillment. Even if you don't know what it is, you'll find it someday. Trust me, you don't want to dwell on past failures or trying to make up for inexcusable mistakes. It ends up hurting more in the end."

He lingered for another moment, eye contact never breaking. Her eyes were large, clear and uncharacteristically vulnerable. He saw who she was. Scared and lonely deep down, afraid of being left behind.

It made him sad as he forced himself to walk away, only by telling himself that it would be for the best. Sadie didn't try to call after him, and, if she did, he didn't hear.

------------------------

It didn't come as a shock when he arrived at work the next day and learned that Sadie had quit. It also wasn't a surprise that his feelings were mixed.

It was a relief that she was gone. Unnecessary dangers would be avoided.

But he was also a bit disheartened. After last night, he finally understood. He sympathized, knowing that same pain from experience.

No matter how much he worried about her actions, no matter how much he had physically wanted her, no matter how much condescension he had for her, he hoped that she would eventually find her place.

He didn't hate himself for that.


End file.
